


The End of the Beginning

by jiababue



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU: everyone's human, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:08:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24815857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jiababue/pseuds/jiababue
Summary: Stiles died. He was sure. He felt part of Roscoe pierce through his ribcage, he felt the blood running down his head in urgency, he felt the oppressing and uncontrollable heat that can only be from his smashed engine. He also felt the comforting black overtake him. He was so sure he left the world to go to Heaven (hopefully, if not, at least Purgatory).But when he opened his eyes, he was in someone else's life. This life was Miecyzslaw Stilinksi's, the character destined for failure in the unbearably cheesy and trashy romance "Perfect CEO".Aka, AU of Stiles falling into a book
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Kate Argent/Derek Hale
Comments: 46
Kudos: 65





	1. The End

**Author's Note:**

> soooo yea it's been a while since I wrote. I'm stuck in quarantine anyways so what's a better time than now? Inspiration from Extraordinary You and also other Chinese romance novels I read LMFAOO

When a story starts, it is called a beginning. The beginning holds the future, the potential, and the hope for an infinity of combinations. But Stiles’ story starts at the end. It starts at the ends of his future, of his potential, and of his hopes. 

He still remembers the bright lights that approached Roscoe too close and too fast as he crossed an intersection, the sound of the metal of his car crunching and snapping as if it was fallen leaves being stepped on, and the feeling of the airbag exploding across his chest and crushing his nose. Through his squinted eyes, he could hazily make out wet hot blood streaming out from his side, where a piece of Roscoe stuck out from. 

“Oh shit,” he gasped as his brain suddenly processed the exploding pain.

The other car didn’t give Stiles enough time to say anything else, as it backed up and rammed itself once again into Roscoe’s side. The seatbelt painfully tightened against Stiles’ body as it tried to keep its owner in the seat when the car was sent rolling with the force. Stiles felt his world was turned upside down then was brought back to right side up, before ending up once again in an upside down world. Roscoe groaned and creaked as the old car rocked and finally settled into its new position. Fighting to keep consciousness, Stiles tasted the metallic blood as it spewed out of his mouth. Groans escaped his mouth, but the blood filling his throat made the sound more like a weak gargle. He weakly spit out the remaining blood and tried to draw air into his aching lungs, only to choke on his saliva as his broken ribs stab into his diaphragm and refuse to cooperate. 

Trying to fight through the haziness and sudden loud ringing in his head, the sharp smell of gasoline cut through the fog in his head temporarily. Even as every nerve is screaming at his brain in pain, Stiles knew instinctively the scent was a sign of danger. A searing pain tore through his shoulder as he tried to paw at the seat belt latch, to try to release the only thing that was keeping him tied to his seat and upside down. Stiles tried to look at the latch but he couldn’t hold his neck up for long enough to focus his sight. As his head fell back down, he could see out of the passenger side of the window; there was a person, besides another car, standing on the road and just _looking_ at the scene as if it was a movie. Stiles doesn’t know why he was so scared of a person simply looking, but the weight of the eyes on him made him more scared than any of the wounds on his body. A sudden thought, no, fact, overtook him: the person was not going to help or call for help. The person was simply an observer, to see Stiles’ end. 

The next moment, Stiles could feel an intense heat licking his hands, caressing his torso, and finally reaching his face as the stench of burning flesh filled his nose. He tried to jerk away from it, but his body wouldn’t move. He couldn’t even lift a finger. Strangely, nothing hurt anymore. Instead, the heat surrounding him was lulling him to sleep. Common sense told him to keep his eyes open no matter what, but the urge to rest, just for a little while, was too strong. A second before the blackness fully overtook him, Stiles took another look past the red roaring flames, and saw the onlooker’s face slowly stretching into a satisfied smile. 

~~

Stiles opened his eyes and almost launched himself out of the bed as he gasped for breath. His hands flew around his body, checking for wounds… that were not there anymore. He scrambled to the mirror standing a little distance from his bed. What stared back at him was a face that had an upturned nose, a cupid’s bow, and accentuated with moles and freckles. There were no ugly gashing slashes across his nose, just an undamaged nose bridge. He lifted his shirt with shaking hands; where there should be a splattering of bruises and misshaped ribs were just smooth and pale skin. Stiles’ brain was spinning as fast as it could, trying to make sense of the chain of events. He swears just a couple moments ago he was in a burning car; he was literally _dying_ . But now, he is perfectly fine, just maybe a _little_ bit freaked out. Maybe this is some weird afterlife. The room with its large four poster bed and antique dresser did not look like what he expected Heaven to look like, but it sure did not look like Hell either. Maybe he’s in Purgatory. Maybe it’s Maybelline. Maybe this is all a dream. But is _this_ a dream? Or is the dream actually the part where he got brutally fucked by a pickup truck at a deserted intersection-

“Master Mieczyslaw,” A knock and a tentative voice broke his train of thought.

“Come in,” The two words came out of his mouth on instinct before he could wonder why anyone on earth was calling him by his full name.

The door opened slowly, to reveal a middle-aged man bowing in professional attire.

“Master Mieczyslaw, breakfast is ready,” He bowed again. “Mr. Hale will be picking you up in an hour.”

Stiles felt like his head was exploding. What was happening? Who is this man in front of him? Who the fuck is Mr. Hale and why does he have an appointment with him? He really should be on guard right now and maybe tackle the guy in front of him to demand know where he is. But a little part of him was telling him to trust the middle-aged man, however crazy it sounds.

“Um, okay,” Stiles said when he realized the man was waiting for a response. “I’ll be there in a second.” It took some effort to get those words out because what really went on in his head was “No it’s NOT okay, what the fuck is happening?”

The man bowed _yet again_ and closed the door on his way out. As soon as the door clicked shut, Stiles stood up and clutched at his hair in desperation. If almost dying but not really wasn’t enough, now he had to figure out where he was and why was there a man going around calling him by his name that shall not be spoken.

A slight buzz caught his attention. He picked up the phone laying on the nightstand and saw there was notification from Derek Hale: “We need to talk about Kate. Pick you up in an hour.”

Derek Hale.. Hale. It’s probably the Mr. Hale the man talked about. Why was the name ringing a bell in the back of his brain? It was a simple name, nothing to write home about. When he saw the name Kate, there was another loud bell that went ballistic in his mind. Kate… Derek Hale… The man calling him Master Mieczyslaw…

“No, it can’t be,” Stiles groaned as all the puzzle pieces clicked inside his brain.

No, no, no, it cannot be. Last night, Stiles was Googling his full name, just out of curiosity, and then he went down the rabbit hole that was the second page of Google. There, on the dark side of the internet, he found a book that had a character with his name in it exactly as it is, Mieczyslaw Stilinski. The name peaked his interest because, let’s be real, it’s not everyday that you hear either of those names separately let alone together. He should have known there was a reason that it was on the second page of Google: nothing good. It was essentially, nah he’s gotta be confident and trust his judgement, it was _straight up_ a trashy romance. If that was not enough it was a Mary Sue trashy romance. 

The plot of the book (which he pirated off of a website that did not let him use adblocker) made Stiles lose a few neurons. The main male character was named Derek Hale. He was pretty much perfect; he was insanely good looking, was the next in line to take over the old and respected family business, and everyone wanted him. But of course being in a Mary Sue romance where the female main character holds all the power in her hands, Derek does not even glance at anyone except for his destined love interest: Kate Argent. It was love at first sight, green eyes met hazel, and when Kate slowly walked towards Derek, the author described the interaction as “the fact that she made this beeline for him made both warmed his soul and made him want to turn around, walk out the door, and find a cliff to fling himself off of”. Once Derek met Kate, he shed his aloof outer shell and “let her walk into his fragile heart that he had only been saving for her like a kid that saves the last piece of his Halloween candy, the perfect and the only woman for him in this world”. Stiles wanted to bleach his eyes and that was the nicest way he could voice it. Just as he was about to give up and close his browser, he caught sight of his name in the very last line of the page. 

Just one more page, he told himself. Just to see what his character was like. He should not have. He should have just closed the page right then and forget all about this trashy book with its trashy characters. But he did not. Thus, his blood pressure went up to dangerously high numbers as a young 25 year old. If a doctor asked why a young man in his physical prime died of a heart attack, someone would be obligated to tell them that it was because Mieczyslaw Stilinski of _Perfect CEO_ is a complete dumbass. 

Mieczyslaw was the spoiled only child of Jonathan and Claudia Stilinski, who were the founder and major shareholders of Stilinski Construction. As one of the top corporations in Beacon City, they not only have the monopoly on construction projects, they have also been expanding into the real estate field. In a rapidly developing city of Beacon City, the presence of Stilinski Construction can be felt everywhere. Basically, Mieczyslaw had everything going for him: doting parents, a spot at a prestigious college, and a multi-million dollar “family business” waiting for him. If Stiles had that life, he would be laughing in his sleep. But it was as if his loving parents were not great? Experiencing college without worrying about debt is not amazing? Is having a high paying job lined up not the dream? Apparently not. 

In the book, Mieczyslaw did not care for any of it. The only thing he cared for was Derek Hale. Of fucking course the main character will have a multiple people fawning after him. Mieczyslaw and Derek were childhood friends. Well, more like Mieczyslaw loved spending time with Derek and Derek tolerated him. Mieczysław realized he was bisexual because of his feelings for Derek and decided to use the his parents’ company as a bribe to set up an arranged marriage between him and Derek, all the while knowing his childhood friend barely cares for him. At the end, the love of Derek and Kate won over and they bankrupted Stilinski Construction as punishment for Mieczyslaw for trying to get between them. Don’t ask Stiles how or why, if you ask, it’s all the fault of the delusional author.

In conclusion, Stiles was now in this world as Mieczyslaw, the villain and ultimate loser of… everything. Stiles groaned again. This should all be impossible. Maybe he should see a professional to check if he had gone crazy. Maybe this is truly the afterlife that whichever God is in charge put in him. But when the idea came that he traveled into the world of a book, something in his mind clicked. It was right, he knew, that he was really in the book of _Perfect CEO_. Stiles was really calmer than he should be. At this point, he should be screaming for help, and maybe a doctor. But all he could think about is, if he was given another chance to live, even if it was in a book, why would he fight it?

The phone in his hand buzzed again. This time, it was a text from Kate: “Leave Derek alone, he doesn’t even like you”. Stiles sighed as he finally got dressed. HIs first thing as the new owner of this body is to cut off his relationship with Derek and get himself out of this triangular mess. If the man doesn’t even like him why was Mieczyslaw so stubborn about the so-called marriage? To make himself suffer? Stiles will never understand. 

He stumbled his way into the kitchen (He only got lost twice in this mansion, okay? Only twice.) and froze when he saw the two people sitting at the counter. Logically he knew that the man and the woman who were laughing and talking with each other were Jonathan and Claudia Stilinski. But as he scanned the scene in disbelief, his brain short circuited. 

“Mom,” Stiles choked out. “Dad.” 

The two adults lifted their head and looked at the boy expectedly. They are the same, Stiles thought dazedly. His dad had the same set in his jaw and his mom had the same crinkles around her eyes when she smiles. If the memory of their death was not so fresh and painful in his mind, he would have thought they came into this world with him. 

“Yes, honey?” His mom asked patiently. 

“Uh,” Stiles shook himself out of his stupor. “Uh, I just wanted to tell you that Derek will be picking me up and I’ll be going out.” 

“Okay,” His dad nodded amicably. “Have fun, but don’t come back too late. You need to go back to school tonight.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Stiles said, still hungrily drinking in the sight of his parents, alive. Something warm gripped his chest as he struggled to keep his breaths even. 

“Tell me how your date with your fiance goes,” his mom gently teased while reaching across the food ladened plates. “Have a muffin before you go.” 

“Thank you,” He took the pastry from her outstretched hand and took a seat next to them, still a little shaken. But the word fiance reminded him of his predicament. “I want to cancel my engagement with Derek.”

“Why?” His mom looked over with furrowed brows and worry in her eyes. “Are you feeling okay? Is he not good to you?”

“No, no,” Stiles shook his head hurriedly. “I just thought about it and I think we’d be better as friends.” We’d be better if we never met actually, he thought sourly. 

“Are you sure?” His dad looked deep into his eyes, as if he could look into his soul. Stiles swore that was the cop stare his own dad used on him so many times in his original world. 

“Yeah I’m sure,” The boy tried to avoid the piercing gaze and focused on peeling his muffin. 

“Okay,” His dad finally nodded. “And he knows about this?”

“I’m going to tell him today,” Stiles spoke through a mouthful of chocolate muffin.

“As long as you’re happy,” his mom smiled and ruffled his hair. 

He blinked rapidly to try to rid it of the stinging feeling. How long has it been, since he had someone on his side? 

A slight knock on the door had the family of three distracted. 

“Master Mieczysław, Mr. Hale is here,” The middle aged man from earlier was bowing at the entrance to the kitchen, unintentionally breaking up the scene. 

Stiles jumped a little at the sight of the man, still trying to adjust to a life of a rich kid, which includes a butler apparently, and stuffed the rest of his muffin into his mouth while trying to speak. 

“Bernard, tell Derek Mieczyslaw is coming,” His dad looked at Stiles and shook his head. “Don’t keep him waiting for too long, son.”

The boy nodded quickly and scrambled after the butler. When he reached the front door, he turned back to see his parents smiling and waving at him; his heart swelled, even as he logically knew that they were smiling at Mieczyslaw, not Stiles, he still let himself bask in the misplaced love.

“Love you,” He smiled softly before stepping out and the butler closing the door after him. “You don’t have to walk me. I’ll go by myself.” He said after seeing Bernard trying to follow him to the black Camaro by the water fountain (Damn he has a fountain now. Call him the white girls in chick flick movies). 

“Yes, Master,” Bernard bowed and stopped on the stairs.

“Um, you don’t need to bow or call me master,” Stiles scratched his head awkwardly. He can adapt to a lot of things, a butler? Not quite on his list. 

“Yes, Master,” The butler bowed again, with an expressionless face.

“You know what,” The boy pointed at him with finger guns. “Forget it. You do you my man.” 

He turned around to rush to the car so he would not have to hear another “Yes, Master” again today. Taking a deep breath with his hand on the handle, he prepared himself to meet this fiance of his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written something fantasy/scifi before, so let's see how it goes. I have everything planned so let's see if I can actually write it as I want to.
> 
> Anyways, “the fact that she made this beeline for him made both warmed his soul and made him want to turn around, walk out the door, and find a cliff to fling himself off of” line is from an actual romance novel LOL it's called Dearly, Departed by Lia Habel LMFAO all the other quotes I made up at the expense of my braincells. 
> 
> see yall next time


	2. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no chapter summary bc i'm lazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiii don't hit me but i actually had this written like 2 weeks ago LOL i just wanted to finish ch3 before i posted this? but that didn't happen LOL so here we go

As a former broke teenager who’s main source of transportation was a half broken Jeep, Stiles was more than enamored with this shiny new sports car. Since he sat down, he had been obsessively touching everything, from the smooth leather on the seats to the high-tech console in the middle. He could feel the strange looks the other man had been giving him as he ran his fingers over the dashboard.

“You got something to say?” Stiles said impatiently and turned to look at him. 

Suddenly, Stiles realized why Derek was the main character of the book. He definitely had the attractiveness part down, a million times over. From the startling green eyes to the chiseled jaw, he could understand why Mieczyslaw was so hung up on this man. Only a little though. 

“Uh,” Derek quickly flicked his eyes back onto the road. “Let’s talk when we get to the coffee shop.” His voice wasn’t as deep as Stiles expected from his gruff exterior. “You are a little different today, Mieczysław.”

Stiles physically cringed when Derek said his name, which sounded more along the lines of “Mikeslaw” in a heavy American accent. 

“Please, promise me never to say the name like that again,” The younger boy shivered. “Just Stiles.” 

“Stiles?” The man’s thick eyebrows furrowed in the middle of his forehead. “You never had a problem with how I said your name for the past ten years.”

“Well, I do now,” Stiles fidgeted in the passenger seat, trying to come up with a passable excuse to his change in attitude. “It’s the name my college friends gave me and I like it better.”

Derek raised an eyebrow at him but did not say anything else for the rest of the way, which Stiles counted as a win. Even if Derek didn’t believe him, what’s Derek going to do? Find the real Mieczyslaw from whichever world he decided to travel to and prove Stiles wrong? He thought not. So of course, as all normal college boys who’ve just covered up his own mysterious origins do, he went back to petting the dashboard.

~~~

“So what was it that you wanted to talk about?” Stiles swore up and down that he really wanted to tell Derek that he wanted to end their loveless engagement but the way the man was scowling at his latte just made Stiles want to tease him. Fight him, he liked to poke at a sleeping bear. Keeps the excitement alive in his life. 

“We need to talk about us,” Derek finally lifted his head to look at Stiles in the eyes. “And Kate.” With the mention of the name, his lips curved into a soft smile. 

Stiles scoffed internally. The power of main characters. They were truly meant for one another. 

“Yes, and?” Stiles looked at Derek expectedly. 

“You need to stop harassing her,” The smile immediately melted off his face and he stared at Stiles with an almost malicious intent. “She is who I love and you need to respect that.”

“I harassed her?” Stiles scrunched up his brows, trying to remember the plot of the book and what exactly he did to Kate. 

“Don’t act dumb,” Derek glared at him. “Don’t even tell me you weren’t the one who egged her car.” 

“Me? Egg her car?” Stiles was pretty sure the only interaction Mieczyslaw had with Kate was calling her names that one time. 

“Yes,” The man across from him tightened his grip on his coffee cup. “Also you called her a-”

“Ah yes, I called her an ugly skank who was like personified pumpkin spice Eggos,” Stiles suddenly remembered. “Yes, I did do that. Not so sure about the egging though.” He said nonchalantly while sipping his frappe. Hell yeah he was going to take credit for the line. It was the only sentence that Stiles thought was readable through the whole book. 

“You can’t _do_ that,” Derek sighed. “Look, Stiles, I understand we’ve known each other for a long time but I don’t like you like that. You can’t attack someone I love just because I don’t return your feelings. It’s bad enough you had our parents involved with the engagement bullshit. So I really think we should just clear the air.” The man looked at him with his eyebrows in a judging position.

“Yes, I agree,” Stiles nodded amicably. “So I told my dad today our engagement is off. Congrats, now go enjoy your life as an un-engaged man.”

Derek stared at him, dumbfounded, as if he hadn’t expected Stiles to give in so easily. 

“What?” The boy spoke around the straw in his mouth defensively. “Isn’t that what you wanted? To break it off with me for your girlfriend?” 

“Uh, yes,” The man shook his head as if to rid himself from the confusion, but his eyebrows were clearly still confused. “Yes, um, that is what I wanted.”

“Okay,” Stiles shrugged. “Then it’s done.” He stood up with the drink in his hand. “Anyways, good luck with Kate, I hope you guys can be happy or whatever.” 

“Um, okay,” Derek was still shocked, but he stood up with Stiles. “Let me drive you home.” 

Stiles was about to shake his head to tell him that it was okay when a nasally high voice interrupted them. 

“Derek, there you are honey,” A blonde woman pushed herself into the said man’s arms with a saccharine smile but not before sending a cold look to Stiles. “I’d been trying to find you.”

“Kate,” Derek relaxed his stance and put his hand gently on her waist when he saw who she was. “I told you I was talking to Stiles today.” The tone was supposed to be scolding but the smile on his face negated the effect. 

“Yeah, which is why I had to come,” She pouted. “I didn’t want you guys to get into a misunderstanding because of me. After all, you’ve known each other for so long. I can definitely step out if that’s the problem. I don’t want you guys to lose a friendship of ten years for me.” When she batted her eyelashes excessively Stiles tried to look anywhere but at them. 

He understood why physically she was the female main character; she had a killer figure, piercing hazel eyes, and blonde waves that cascaded down her back. But personality wise? Stiles felt like she was an insult to girls everywhere. Is that what straight men thought girls were like these days? Also, what’s this talk about stepping out? That was NOT the message she gave him this morning. It was more along the lines of “fuck off he only loves me”. When Derek wasn’t looking, Kate shot him a burning glare. Ah, okay, so he was not making things up. If any of his brief experience with trashy romance novels were correct, Kate’s act will only make Derek feel sorry for her and love her even more. Stiles also had a nagging suspicion that the eggs on her car was a setup to make Miecyzslaw look bad to Derek. Whatever, no longer his problem. 

Before Derek could speak, Stiles beat him to it, “No worries, no misunderstandings here, Derek and I are no longer engaged.” He raised his drink in salute to the couple. “Invite me to your wedding.” With that, he walked towards the exit. 

“Wait Stiles,” Derek called after him. “I can drive you home.” Something was nagging at Derek. There was something different about the boy today. From the way he was dressing, with his flannel open instead of buttoned to the top, to the way his eyes glinted, more like a wiley fox than his usual innodent doe look. He was sure something major had happened to Stiles and he wanted to know why, like an itch that had to be scratched. 

“Nah, it’s okay,” Stiles shook his head. “I’ll call an Uber or something. Spend time with your girlfriend.” 

He didn’t bother looking back as he headed out into the fresh air. Looking up at the clear sky, he felt as if the weights were being lifted off of his shoulders. Stiles was relishing his first moments as a free man. He was no longer in the main characters’ plot lines and he was going to make the most of this new life that he was given. Even if he was technically living in a book. 

There was almost a skip to his step as he walked down the bustling street, admiring the mandane shops. There’s nothing he loved more than plain, normal things right now. He liked how the clouds lazily crawled across the blue skies, how the footsteps of passersby seemed to lay out the beat for a silent song, and how the brakes of the car screeched to a stop as it also passed a red lig- okay maybe not that last part. Too many bad memories with brakes and cars. 

Stiles stopped in front of a shiny window of a bookstore. He didn’t know why he stopped. The store was nothing special; it was small, the letters on the sign were worn out from the constant exposure to the weather, and everything in the store was bland. Even the books on the display were of neutral colors, nothing bright that could catch anyone’s eye. But there was something, pulling Stiles in. Before he knew it, he was in the door and the wind chime attached to it was tinkling, announcing his entrance. As if he was in a trance, he drifted towards the bookshelves lined up neatly in the back. His head was buzzing, making it almost impossible to concentrate enough to read the titles, but he gave in to the urge to run his hands along the spine of the books. Walking down the aisle, his fingertips skimmed past the books, feeling anything from the rough texture of cardstock to the softer, well-worn creases of leather. He could feel the paper thrumming to the beat of his heart and the edge of his vision started to blur.

“Can I help you?” A cynical voice but through the haze in Stiles’ mind. 

He whirled around, seeing a man behind the counter, which he must’ve walked past unknowingly. The man had a book in his hand, half-raised as if he was not sure whether to keep reading or to talk to Stiles. The boy shivered involuntarily as the man scanned him up and down, feeling as if someone had dozed him in cold water. There was something strange about the man behind that counter, as if he was copied from somewhere and pasted into this world without formatting; he stuck out. 

“Um, no, I’m good,” Stiles winced at his own voice, strange and thin even to his own ears. “Just looking.”

“Okay,” The man nodded mechanically, with a calculating look still in his eyes. “I see.” 

Stiles nodded too and awkwardly smiled. 

“What’s your name?” The man suddenly asked. He neatly stuck a bookmark in the book in his hands and set it down on the wooden counter. 

“Stiles,” The said boy walked closer to the counter. 

The man paused, looked at Stiles once more, as if all the answers in the world were on his face. 

“Stiles… Mieczyslaw, right?” His Polish was immaculate and proper, as if he had been practicing the name in his mind thousands of times. 

“How-?” Stiles’ hand twitched. He pushed down the urge to run out of the store. There had been too many unexplainable things that had happened to him these 24 hours. 

The man just smiled, a slight bit smug and a slight bit pitiful. “I know what I have to know.”

Stiles frowned. “What? You need to know my name? That’s kind of creepy, old man.”

The man just ignored Stiles and stood up, walking around the counter and disappeared within the rows of bookshelves. 

Stiles blinked, not really sure what to do. Maybe he should call the police? Does he have a stalker? Within 24 hours of being in this world? 

“Are you coming?” The man’s head popped out from behind a bookshelf.

“Uh, yeah, coming,” Stiles scrambled after him, the thoughts of police thrown into the back of his mind. 

The man led Stiles into the very corner of his store, where the dust piled high and the light didn’t reach. 

“You don’t clean?” Stiles couldn’t stop himself from complaining. 

“These stories are best not touched,” was the only response he got. 

The man knelt on the ground and reached for a book on the bottom shelf. The book he pulled out was not old, like Stiles had thought. The pages weren’t yellow, but it wasn’t the crisp white of a new book either. The cover was a dull, plain red, with only silver block letterings sprawled across the front. In the dim light, Stiles could barely make out the letters to be _Portal_. 

“What is this?” Stiles furrowed his eyebrows, still confused at the whole series of events. 

“You will know when you read it,” The man answered shortly and brushed the dust off the cover before pushing Stiles back to the counter. 

Before the boy could react, the man was writing the address of the bookstore on a bookmark and stuck it in the book before placing it into a bag. He held it out expectantly to Stiles. 

“Uh,” Stiles put his palm out and shook his head. “I don’t want to buy it.” 

“Just take it,” The man insisted. “No charge. Just come back after you finish it.” 

Stiles hesitantly closed his hand around the handle of the bag, “Why?”

The man simply smiled, without providing any answers, “Call me Deaton.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forget how tiring world building.... i'm getting stuck bc i thought this would be a crack fic but it's turning darker?? whyyy can't i just write 1 crack fic where they get together in a fluffy way? i promise there's no angst just... a longer route to a happy ending LOL


	3. Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG i started working and for this chapter i honestly wrote myself into a tangle so i had to untangle myself LOL but it's a thicc chapter to make up for ti ;)

Stiles stared blankly at the book in his lap, hand tracing the silver butterfly, as he debated whether or not to open the book. Ever since he left the bookstore, he hadn’t been able to take his mind off of this otherwise plain book. He stared at it when the family driver picked him up from the bookstore (during regular times he would totally freak out over being rich enough for a family driver, but these normal times are not), he stared at it when he was supposed to be packing for going back to school and ended up stabbing himself on a needle that was hidden in his drawer, and he stared at it more when he was back in his apartment near campus. 

He gave it one last took as he set it on his shelf, not noticing a bookmark with awfully familiar print hiding amongst the novels.

“Miecyz, wanna watch the game?” His housemate stuck his head inside Stiles’ room without knocking. “We have pizza.” 

The hair that stuck up everywhere and the bit of ketchup clinging on to the corner of his mouth made Stiles smile. It was Scott McCall, Miecyzslaw’s housemate and best friend, and who was, honestly, the only likable character in the book. Scott was a little goofy and a little dense, but when it came to it, he was Miecyzslaw’s best protector. 

“Sure,” Stiles shrugged, lured by the promise of food. He threw the book onto his bed and the back of his mind. Lightly punching the other boy as he pushed Scott out into the hallway. “But don’t call me that again.”

“Why?” Scott looked at him dejectedly. “You’ve always let me call you that.”

“Oh,” Stiles momentarily forgot this world wasn’t his. “I just wanted to try something new. How about Stiles?”

“Stiles?” Scott said, as if trying to see how it would fit in his mouth. “I like it.” He gave Stiles a lopsided smile, brightening again. “Come on, _Stiles,_ let’s watch this game.”

“Who’s Stiles?” A darker boy looked up from the TV as he heard the pair stumble in the living room. 

“Danny, he doesn’t want us to call him Miecyz anymore,” Scott pouted and complained to the boy. “He wants us to call him Stiles. Is he mad about my pronunciation?”

“If your name wasn’t one syllable you would mispronounce your name too,” Danny teased Scott before shoving pizza into his mouth. “Now shut up and watch the game. Jackson is playing.” 

Scott made a weird face and grumbled as he sat down, “Who wants to watch Jackson anyways? That prick.”

“The prick that wins all of our games,” Danny didn’t even look up. 

“Okay, yeah he might have won a _couple_ games,” Scott acknowledged grudgingly through a mouthful of food. 

“He set the record for most away wins at our school,” Danny scoffed. 

The bickering made Stiles smile. In his original world, he hadn’t been so lucky. Stiles remembered the cruel smiles and sneers thrown in his face at school, the mocking spasms and the fake wails to crudely imitate his panic attacks. The word friends for him was abstract and about as real and tangible to him as the tooth fairy. 

As Scott excitedly hugged him and bounced up and down on the couch, getting louder the closer their school football team got to the touchdown zone, a thought entered Stiles’ mind: Maybe this is what it’s like, being friends. 

~

For several weeks, it was all a blur for Stiles. He dutifully followed Miecyzslaw’s class schedule, ate lunch with Miecyzslaw’s classmates, and goofed around with Miecyzslaw’s best friends. The mundane pace of life washed away the panic and confusion that he felt by dropping in a different world. As he wore more of Miecyzslaw’s clothes, slept in Miecyzslaw’s bed, and answered more roll calls by the name of Mieczyslaw, Stiles slowly began to feel the lines separating him from Mieczyslaw disappear. There were certain times where it was clear that they were two people (Mieczyslaw liked to squeeze his toothpaste from the middle. Disgusting.) yet those moments were rare and infrequent. Most of the time, he was just... Stiles. 

Stiles didn’t even blink when shoving a notebook with the name Mieczyslaw bolded on the front into his backpack, trying to catch up to the crowd of students flowing out of the lecture hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a familiar head of blonde hair, pushing her way against the flow of the students. Stiles’ eyes widened when he saw her face, which belonged to the last person he would have thought to see on campus. He guessed that he forgot about the biggest thing him and Mieczyslaw disagreed on: Kate Argent. 

The woman made her way to the podium, where the professor was closing his laptop. Kate looked at the professor, with the word irritation written all over her face, and he looked back with an expression of cold stoicism.

Stiles quickly sprinted towards the door, tagging along to the last of the crowd, while putting his hood on, not wanting to be caught up in the mess that was Kate. He would rather eat a KitKat whole than follow in Mieczyslaw’s footsteps when it comes to her. Gently, he tried to close the door, but just as he was about to seal away Kate forever (he wished anyways) he heard his name. Or rather, Mieczyslaw’s name. 

“Chris, I think something went wrong with Mieczyslaw,” Kate’s voice floated through the crack of the door. 

“I told you, I don’t want anything to do with what you and the rest of the Argents are doing,” Chris said in a disapproving voice. In his mind, Stiles gave Chris a thumbs up. Hell yeah, tell her. “I am only talking to you right now because Allison wants you there for her ball this weekend.”

“This is no longer just an Argent thing,” Kate argued. “You know how dangerous Mieczyslaw is.” 

“He isn’t dangerous,” Stiles could hear his professor getting more and more agitated by the minute. “He is just a regular kid. He is _my student_ for god’s sake.”

“He is anything but regular,” Kate ignored him. “You know this too. And I need your help, _we_ need your help. We need to make sure Mieczyslaw-”

“No, end of discussion,” Chris snapped. “He’s the secondary character to this story. He has a right to be here.”

Stiles’ hand spasmed on the doorknob, causing the metal to rattle. From the tiny slit of the door, Stiles could see the pair turning sharply towards the noise, their attentive and cutting gaze eerily similar to one another. These were the gazes of hunters, Stiles instinctively knew, the gazes were looking for prey. And that prey, was him. He felt like a hand was crushing his ribcage making it harder to breathe and bringing up memories he had tried so hard to suppress these couple of weeks. Even with the air conditioning in full blast in the building, Stiles could almost feel again the overbearing heat licking his arms and the stench of burning flesh reaching his nose. A scene flashed before his eyes; the piercing gaze of the person standing outside Roscoe. It was the same. Every cell in Stiles’ body was telling him to run. So he did.

He bursted out into the hallway and booked it down the stairs, ignoring everyone’s odd stares. His head was spinning from the information he had just heard, from the fact that Kate thought something was wrong with him, to Chris’ exclamation at the end. They knew. They knew that this world is a story and they knew Stiles, no, Mieczysław, was the secondary character. Was it because Kate’s the main character? But then how would Chris, a character not even mentioned in the book, know of him? And what did Kate mean by something “went wrong” with him? Was Kate the one who killed him before?

With all the questions swirling around his mind, he stumbled out into the courtyard. He looked at the mass of students milling casually around him, contrasting greatly with his jumbled brain. Taking several deep breaths, he tried to blend in with the rest of the students. He had taken about three steps before he heard his name called out from behind him. 

“Mieczysław,” The voice was feminine and dripping in overwhelming sweetness. “Funny to see you here.”

Stiles grimaced before turning around, seeing Kate and Chris step out from the staff elevator at the side of the building. Damn, he forgot about that. 

“Hey Kate,” He tried to pull off a careless smile. “Well I am a student here.”

She scanned him up and down critically. “I’m glad you’re up and doing well even after Derek chose me.” 

Stiles raised an eyebrow at her veiled compliment. “First of all, it’s been literal weeks. Second of all, I was the one who ended it.” Okay, arguing about the stupid plot of the book, this he could do. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that he loves me more,” Kate stubbornly said. 

“Ookay,” Stiles slowly nodded, now even more confused. Is this what it was like living in a romance novel? 

“Don’t talk to him!” Someone ran in front of Stiles, as if to block him from Kate. All in good intentions, but the person forgot to account for their backpack, resulting in Stiles being gutted by a heavy bag filled with laptops and books. 

“Scott?” Stiles caught a glance of his best friend while rubbing his stomach.

“Yeah, don’t worry Stiles, I have your back,” Scott looked at him, determined, before turning back to Kate. “Stop bothering Stiles and Derek! Don’t you feel bad for breaking them up?”

Stiles was dumbfounded. The thought that Scott would know about Kate and Derek did not cross his mind. He almost forgot Scott was also a character, however small his role is, in this story.

“Wait, Scott, it’s not like that,” Stiles put his hand on Scott’s shoulder, trying to stop him.

“It’s okay, Stiles,” Scott shook his hand off. “I know you’re just sad about Derek.”

“No that really isn’t-” 

“If it really isn’t why, bring a date to Allison’s birthday ball this Saturday and tell Derek you’re dating him,” Kate interrupted with a smug smile, as if it was the best idea in the whole world. 

“Wait what ball?” Stiles hadn’t even processed the first half of the sentence. He was wondering what kind of grass Kate was smoking, because he swore that a minute ago she was ready to skin him with no hesitation. Before he could answer, he saw a scowl pass by her face, smoothing immediately back into a smirk. Confused, Stiles couldn’t get his words out before his best dumb friend, very best but also very dumb, Scott said his piece. 

“I’ll go with him!” Scott puffed out his chest, as if to make himself more intimidating to Derek… whose not here. 

“No, it’s okay,” Stiles quickly stepped in. “It’s stupid and I’m not going to do it.” Turning back to Kate, he said, “I don’t care what you guys think, I don’t even know what this fucking ball is, I’m not going.” 

“You don’t?” Scott blinked at him. “Everyone knows it’s Allison Argent’s birthday this weekend and every influential person in the city is invited. I thought you would be too.”

Stiles was about to tear his hair out. Oh of fucking course there would be a cheesy “rich person only” birthday ball in this romance book. And of fucking course Kate would try to get him to do something so cheesy as to “prove” his lack of feelings. 

“No, no, I didn’t get the invite, and even if I did, I am NOT going!”

~~

Stiles walked into the ball stiffly, his limbs bound together by the tight formal clothes his mom shoved him into, with Scott bouncing up and down by his side. 

“There’s supposed to be a firedance tonight! But apparently the showstopper will be the five layer cake that the Argents had ordered from a famous French pastry chef and it costs more than our rent!” Scott excitedly looked around, as if the cake would automatically appear in front of him. 

“I can’t believe I am here,” Stiles groaned, tugging on his cuffs. 

“It’s an Argent ball, of course you had to come,” His dad was holding his mom’s hand but he didn’t forget to scoff at his son. 

Stiles sighed dejectedly. He guessed no matter how hard he tried to change the plot of the book, there were still some events he cannot escape. Now he wished he would’ve read the book more closely so he could at least “break” a bone to avoid this. Okay maybe not that dramatic, but every kid had tricks up their sleeves to get out of sticky situations. School and birthday balls both fall underneath that category. He takes no arguments. 

“Come on, I see the food,” Scott spotted the delicacies in the middle of the ballroom and dragged Stiles by the wrist to drool over the delicate cakes and sweets. 

“You would think by the way you’re eyeing them you’ve been starving for a month,” Stiles shook his head fondly as Scott already dived in and snatched a red velvet cupcake. 

Scott only rolled his eyes and shoved a bite of the cupcake into his mouth. Stiles’ eyes widened as the flavors bursted in his mouth. Slowly chewing as if he couldn’t believe it, he could swear tears were forming in his eyes. Scott was not the fool, he was; compared to the day old pastries he got at supermarkets in his previous life, these cupcakes were not on the same level, not even close. 

Seeing his expression, Scott smugly smiled. “See?” 

Stiles didn’t even bother to talk back, he was now just as focused on eating as many of the treats as possible. Hey, he was a college student. Any free food was good, let alone high quality cakes. 

If anyone looked over to their corner, they would see two college boys shoving their faces with as many treats as possible. Should they have watched their manners at a fancy birthday ball? Yeah, probably. But the taste of treats don’t change if you eat them elegantly or feverishly. At least, that was what Stiles told himself. 

After stuffing themselves full, the two sat down on the couches near the back, slowly sinking into a food coma in the shadows.

“I don’t have room for the birthday cake anymore,” Stiles groaned and threw his back, rubbing his stomach.

“Wait to say that until you see it,” Scott raised an eyebrow, doubting his friend.

“Shut up,” Stiles kicked him lightly. “Are you calling me a fatass?”

“Yes,” The latino boy laughed before Stiles dove at him, holding him in a loose headlock. “Stop, stop, I tap out.” He slapped Stiles' arms, still laughing. 

When Stiles did let go, a playful glint entered Scott’s eyes and the next thing Stiles’ knew was that he was falling off of the couch. He braced himself for the impact, but he didn’t feel the giving hardness of the carpeted floor, instead he felt a strong arm wrap around his waist and lifted him up. Opening the eyes he didn’t remember closing, he saw clear green eyes stare back at him. There was only one person in this book who had clear green eyes (The author described it as “As clear as lime green jello shots” but Stiles chose to ignore that.) and it was Derek. 

“Oh,” Stiles felt his heart quicken and didn’t know where to look. He felt as if he could get lost forever in those eyes but if he looked away, he would see the well trimmed beard, the sharp jaw, or the muscular chest, all of which were making the blood rise quickly to his face. Okay, sue him, Derek as the main character of course was attractive and as a healthy hormonal bisexual teenager, of course he was attracted. Physically. Attracted physically. Only physically. The thoughts zooming in his head made him feel lightheaded, or was it the blood rush? 

“Are you okay?” Derek spoke softly and got closer to Stiles’ face to scan for injuries. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles stuttered and quickly pulled away. He might not have Mieczyslaw’s feelings for Derek, but it was hard to not react when a hot as hell man gets too close. “I’m fine.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Derek replied and the air between them quickly sank into an awkward silence. 

Stiles sent a pleading glance to Scott, hoping that he would say _something_ to break the ice. But Scott, who had so much bravado trash talking Derek in their apartment, was completely useless now.

“I-I’m just going to get a drink,” Scott took one look at Derek’s physique and ran off. 

Stiles cursed at him in his head. What happened to the brotherhood they talked about? 

“So, how are you?” Derek asked awkwardly. “Sorry I didn’t contact you after…” 

‘The incident at the cafe’ was left unsaid. 

“Oh it’s fine,” Stiles shook his head violently, as if doing so can get him out of the conversation. “I’m fine, you know, just going through school.” 

“That’s good, that’s good,” Derek gave him a polite smile. 

“Yeah,” was the response before the silence overtook them again. To stop himself from giving into the urge to fidget his hands, Stiles dug his nails into his palms. 

“Stop it,” Derek’s eyebrows furrowed and he took Stiles’ hands in his own, loosening the taut fingers carving crescents into his palm. “You’re doing it again.” 

“Do what?” Just as Stiles thought he would pull himself out of the shock of Derek picking him up, he did another action that sent Stiles back into Shock-O-Land. 

“You always dig your nails into your hands when you’re nervous,” Smoothing out the marks on Stiles’ hands, Derek raised an eyebrow. “You told me you’d stop.” 

“Um, yeah,” _Mieczyslaw and I have the same habits, huh,_ Stiles thought. “I was just, uh, too nervous.” He went along with Derek’s explanation.

“Don’t be,” The taller man sighed before giving him a small but soft and genuine smile, making his face light up in a way his earlier polite smile could never hope to achieve. “It’s just me.” Holding their still joined hands in between them, Derek gripped them a little tighter. “I wanted to talk to you about this, about us.” 

Stiles gave him a nod to continue. It would be a good time to draw the line clear between him and Derek. He had no interest in being used and discarded for the sake of “plot”, as hot the plot was. 

“I know the… marriage, put a strain on our friendship,” Derek said with difficulty. 

“Yes and it’s completely okay if you hate me, I’ll just stay out of sight,” Stiles nodded vigorously, patting himself on the back for the plan. “So I’ll just slip away now and pretend that we never saw each other tonight.” As he said so, he attempted to withdraw his hands from Derek’s. The feeling of the warm calloused hands on his was a little too dangerous to keep. 

“No,” Derek held on tighter, not giving Stiles a chance to leave. “I don’t hate you. We were friends before and I don’t want to lose that. You’re my oldest friend.” 

Thunderstruck, Stiles could only blink. “What?” This was not the script. In the book, Derek should be doing everything he could to get away from Stiles. But now, he was proposing they get closer? 

“I feel like you have changed,” It seemed like Derek had hit his word count for the day, as his face scrunched up in an effort to express himself. 

Ah, there it was, the reason Stiles was looking for. Derek wanted to be closer because he sensed that Stiles was no longer Mieczyslaw. Even if their relationship was strained by Mieczyslaw’s wild actions, they were childhood friends after all. It was only natural to be curious. But this curiosity was not present in the original script. Does this deviant of personality mean that everything else can also change? Does this mean that Stiles won’t have to suffer the fate that Miecyzslaw did? Maybe by coming to this world, Stiles caused the butterfly effect and forever changed the plot line. His mind drifted to the butterfly on the book that Deaton gave him. _The butterfly effect,_ he thought absentmindedly. Stiles understood the logic that everything was probably flipped upside down by his appearnace, but when has his life ever adhered to logic? Call him paranoid, but he wouldn’t be surprised if everything snapped back into the proper storyline, leaving his efforts to change it now fruitless. 

“Ah, there you are honey,” _Here comes the storyline,_ Stiles sighed in his mind as he saw Kate saunter up to them. “I was looking for you.” Kate reached for Derek’s hands and moved them from Stiles’. 

“I was just going to introduce you to my family,” She continued with a sickly sweet smile and plastered herself to Derek’s side, subtly pushing Stiles away. 

“Just give me a second to finish talking to Stiles,” Derek smiled softly at her, seemingly pleasantly surprised by her appearance. 

“Okay,” Kate pouted. “I guess I’ll wait.” She turned slightly away, giving them the illusion of privacy as she waved down a waiter for a drink while still clinging on to Derek. 

“Stiles, I think we-” Derek’s voice blended into the background as Stiles caught sight of Kate’s hand wrapped delicately around a wine glass, filled to the brim with dark red liquid. A sudden scene flashed before his eyes. Wine only made one appearance in the entire book, but it was a memorable scene. In the book, Kate had accidentally spilled a whole glassful of wine on Mieczyslaw, who was livid and ended up hitting the woman. This obviously wedged a deep feeling of resent between Derek and Mieczyslaw and was the start of the younger boy’s downfall. When he was reading it, Stiles had rolled his eyes. First of all, who spills a whole cup of wine? Who pours wine to the brim? But now, seeing the odd glint in Kate’s eyes, he wasn’t so sure it was an accident. Faintly in the back of his head, he could hear Kate’s voice: “I think something went wrong with Mieczyslaw”. 

In slow motion, he saw Kate tripping over nothing and the wine leaving the glass and coming closer and closer towards him, as if it was reaching for a hug. _I should move_ , Stiles thought dazedly, but he could only stare, stunned, as the droplets hit his white button up. When he came to, he was soaked. The red liquid blooming on the thin white shirt akin to roses. The fabric stuck to him, sticky and cold, and his first instinct was to pull it as far from his skin as possible. Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles could see Kate bracing herself for a hit that never came. 

“I’m going to have a hell of a time washing this out,” Stiles grimaced. He was pissed, sure, but he wasn’t Mieczyslaw; this wasn’t the time to respond with violence. Plus, he wasn’t the biggest fan of Kate, at any point in his life, it seems like a waste to spend extra energy on her. 

“I’m-I’m so sorry,” Kate stammered, a confused look still hung on her features. Her shoulders were still hunched, as if she was still waiting for the blow. 

Stiles didn’t bother to say anything but he nodded, to acknowledge her apology. Looking away from her, he accepted the napkin from Derek and roughly dabbed at his stained shirt. As he frowned down at his marred outfit, he missed the changed look in Kate’s eyes. The confusion quickly bled out of the hazel irises and replaced by fanatic light, one that was eager to destroy and kill. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly i wnat to add more and more things the longer it is so that is why this is so confusing i am so sorry LOLOL

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think in the comments and/or on [twt](https://twitter.com/jiababue)!!


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